


captain of atlas, bearer of my heart

by Atalto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Post Season 7, Season 7 Spoilers, brief angst, fun stuff, grieving shiro, mentions of injury, pining shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: After the destruction of the Mech and the collection of Voltron, Lance wakes up in hospital.He gets a rather unusual visitor, in the form of the newest Captain of Atlas.(A post S7 get together fic)





	captain of atlas, bearer of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y’all, I’m Pebble, and S7 was decent!
> 
> However, we didn’t get enough Shance >:0 So have this to remedy this.  
> (This very nearly became an Atlas appreciation fic, apologies)
> 
> Hope this is okay for y’all! I bashed this out in like, a day lmao
> 
> Enjoy!

He awakes to screams of delight.

It takes a moment of blinking, of heavy breathing and clammy fingers gripping on starchy sheets, that Lance finally comes around. There's a hand in his, warm and tight where his feel cold and limp, and a voice in his ears that feels like it's coming through cotton wool.

"-le Lance?" The voice says, innocent and excited, and he thinks for a moment it's angels.

There's a moment of silence where Lance forces his eyes open, steel lids sliding open to the gentle lights of the hospital room. He can see silhouettes around him, but it's still too bleary to see faces as shapes and light flash before his vision.

He feels like he should be in pain, from the way his bones jut into his skin and how his muscles crawl like there's thousands of insects under his tendons, but instead he just feels weightless. He feels like he's about to float, like he did back in his lion, empty and alone.

He guesses that's the morphine.

"Lance?" Another voice says - this one is different, older and more masculine, but still concerned, "Lancey boy, are you with us?"

He feels a grunt rip from his throat, harsh and dry from where he hasn't drunk in ages. It hurts, but he fixes a smile as the faces in his sights begin to sharpen. Firstly, he sees Pa, sat immediately across from him in a chair by the bed; he looks older than Lance remembers, wrinkles deeper and under-eye circles darker than they were when he saw him last. It's then that Pa reaches across to place a large, calloused hand on Lance's forehead, and he feels himself keen to the touch.

"Nice to have you back with us," Pa says, and there's a break in his voice that indicates he's been crying, "thought we'd nearly lost you there."

And then the hand is gone, and the light is starting to hurt slightly, but he pushes himself up the bed anyway. Pain shoots through his arms as he does, but the twins immediately jump into his lap; they cuddle close, snuggling into his chest and twisting the thin hospital blanket around themselves.

"Uncle Lance?" Alex asks gently, and Lance looks down to see the young boy close to tears in his lap, "are you gonna' be okay? Papa says you nearly died."

He really needs to talk to Marco about what he's telling his kids.

"Don't worry about your uncle, kid," he replies easily, aware of a roughness of his voice as he sees Mama cringe in the corner of his eye, "I'm a paladin of Voltron, we've been through worse than this!"  
He pumps his right muscle weakly, cracking a smirk as Alex and Maria wrap themselves around his middle.

He knows he's not fooling anyone, and hisses as pain shoots up his back again, vision blurring with black spots as he leans back on the headboard. Honestly, he doesn't remember much of the fight, short of the giant duel-wielding alien mecha that nearly killed them all. The explosion bursts into his mind as the memory hits him, punctuated by Sendak, the Zyforge cannons, his teammates, Atlas-

"Lie back, silly boy," Mama tuts as he feels the twins being lifted off his lap, but there's that gentle loving in her voice, of forgiveness and compassion that makes him want to drown in love, "you shouldn't push yourself."

He tries to argue, but to no avail.

"Rest," she says again, and this feels less like a suggestion and more like an order, "you'll see us all again soon, we aren't going anywhere."

With that, Lance closes his eyes, and feels himself float.

* * *

 

"-awake, but it's hard keeping him lucid. We're slowly taking him off the painkillers, just to test his reactions."

Cold, clinical. Not family.

"As long as he's okay. His injuries were pretty severe, and I don't want him in pain."

Still not family, but warm. Lance knows this voice, trusts it with his very soul, and he slowly blinks his eyes open. They hurt less this this time, and he feels more grounded, more aware of the rough blankets around him and a dull ache in his bones. If he turns his head, he can make out a tall, commanding figure, all white and cream and grey, talking to a doctor in mint scrubs.

"Of course, Captain Shirogane. I'll keep you updated, but you're welcome to visit him."

Lance watches as Shiro nods, before turning back to Lance in the bed and smiling slowly.

"You should be resting," he suggests with a slight hum, taking a seat in the visitors chair next to the bed, "go back to sleep, I'll see you later."

The last thing Lance feels is a hand in his hair, cold and metallic, but it feels like home.

* * *

 

He aches.

This time, his eyes flick open quickly, and he forces himself up into a sitting position. He can practically feel every bump and bruise on his body, and he reaches up to run a hand through sweaty hair. Honestly, he feels gross, like he hasn't washed in weeks, and his skin feels grimy to the touch.

"Lance?"

He flicks his head around, fighting the headache to see Shiro kneeling by his bed. By the looks of it, the other man has been asleep too, humming awake as Lance shuffles on the bed.

"Shiro?" He asks in reply, immediately cringing at his voice, "everything okay?"

Shiro nods, before standing and helping him lean back on the bed; he immediately starts moving pillows and easing Lance's thrumming shoulders back, face a flat grimace of focus.

"I think I should be asking you that," Shiro answers with a laugh - it's not happy, more a bemused heavy sigh, but Lance'll take it, "how are you feeling?"

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Honestly? Like shit."

He's not lying. His entire body seems to ache since the brief, hazy memories of the doctor reducing his morphine, and he's fairly sure he can locate every individual injury he received. To add to that, his head is still swimming, grey zig-zags flashing past his eyes from exhaustion whenever he moves. Red is somewhere in there, a concerned but constant presence.

He's sorry, Lance had figured in a previous spell of lucidity, he nearly didn't come in time and he's sorry.

"That's understandable," Shiro says, and Lance snaps out of his thoughts to see he's now standing by the bed, "you're the last to wake up, y'know? I think we're all worried about you."

He's the last to wake up?

The others have spent days without him then, relaxing and healing together, bonding as a team, whilst he's been stuck in a fucking hospital bed-

Shiro must have seen this, since next thing he knows, there's a metallic hand stroking his cheek in some comforting, hypnotic rhythm. It takes a moment to realise how it works, since Shiro is stood on his left side, but he happily leans into the touch anyway.

"We're not surprised, you had a pretty nasty head wound," Shiro explains, and he turns around to sit on the bed near Lance's thighs, "we- well, I was worried about you."  
The metal hand brushes over some fresh bandages that are pulled taut around Lance's head, and it instantly retracts at Lance's small hiss of pain.

"I'm honoured, really," Lance replies with a wry laugh, but stops once he sees Shiro's face fall further, "what about the others, did you see them? I thought you'd be back attached to Keith's side again."

There's a flash of pain across Shiro's face, and instantly Lance is aware he's said the wrong thing.

"Keith was the first to wake up, although no one was surprised, so yes, I've seen him," Shiro confirms, but his averted eyes suggest there's more to this than he's letting on, "Krolia is back, along with Kolivan, so he's not alone anymore."

 _He doesn't need me anymore_ goes unsaid, but it's plain to see on the older man's face. It's practically written into the grooves of his frown, unfairly present on such a young face, and Lance can't help but feel a deep sadness that this man, who isn't even much older than he is, has all these burdens to contend with when he's been through to much already. Maybe he could share his moisturisers, pick Shiro up some heavy face cream or bio-oil from those new alien markets he's briefly seen on TV-

It's then that Lance realises he hasn't seen Shiro's family, outside of a semi-familiar name on a mourned over plaque. No one for him to return to, to fight for, to comfort him.

There's a sadness in Lance now too.

"Well, I, for one, am glad to see you," Lance says happily, in some vain hope it would cheer Shiro up a little bit, "because it means you're okay, and I have someone to scream to about how cool Atlas is, because let's face it, a giant white robot is pretty awesome-"

He's cut off by a sudden tight hug, and it takes a moment of thought before he realises it's Shiro, head tucked into his neck and single human arm locked around his shoulders. The metal arm has gone to his head, digits curling and stroking over greased hair. It takes another moment before Lance hugs back, aching arms going around Shiro's waist.

Admittedly, he has no idea where this has come from; Shiro is definitely not the hugging type, or at least not with anyone other than Keith or Pidge. But he's not complaining - a hug from Shiro is pretty much all he's wanted since they came to space what feels like years ago. Okay, he didn't expect to be hospitalised when he received one, but beggars can't be choosers.

"You scared me," Shiro finally says, voice small and muffled by Lance's ward gown, "when you and Veronica didn't check in at the base. You put yourself in harms way too much."

"Says the man who literally flew through space to fight Sendak on the roof of a crashing cruiser that had just hit terminal velocity," Lance counters, feeling a ticklish rumble as Shiro laughs against him, "I don't think you have any room to judge, y'know?"

Shiro pulls back at that, and he looks slightly guilty as he does. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and dropping eyelids, and Lance guesses he hasn't been sleeping.

"Come 'ere," he offers, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and tapping the resulting space in invitation, "you look in need of a nap, Captain."

Shiro flushes at the title, sending a jolt of something warm through Lance's chest that he knows he's been fighting to control.  
"I'm fine," he starts, but immediately grimaces after a glare from Lance, "okay, maybe I haven't been sleeping too well, but-"

"No buts!" Lance interrupts, and he pats the bed again, "c'mon, at least relax for a bit."

He knows he hasn't left Shiro with much choice, but he still feels a certain amount of pride when Shiro finally concedes and crawls into the bed next to him. Instantly, the metal arm fixes around his side - it's a little weird to have a hand on his shoulder but no arm to lean his head back on, but at least Shiro won't get a dead arm like this.

"Don't scare us like that again," Lance hears Shiro whisper, and a head gently rests on his shoulder as strands of white hair float in and out of the corner of Lance's eye, "I really thought you were going to die."

There's an honesty in his voice, deep and true, that stuns Lance into silence. Shiro sounds exhausted, both physically and mentally now, and Lance moves one arm over to rest on the space where their thighs touch. He's careful not to jostle his IV, but Shiro very slowly slips his fingers between Lance's until their palms touch and Lance can feel scarred, thickened knuckles under his fingertips.

"I'm sorry," he replied, hearing Shiro hum against his shoulder, "I guess it's a side effect of the paladin job - a constant awareness of your own death."

"Don't I know it," Shiro says with a laugh, but Lance doesn't find it funny.

"You know you can't protect us all the time, right Shiro? This shit is only gonna' get worse until we find out where that mech came from."

He hears Shiro laugh again, slightly more light-heartedly. "Why do you think Atlas formed for me?" He jokes, and Lance looks down to see a small smile forming on his face, "it was completely spurred from my protectiveness of your dumb asses."

"When your role as the mom friend becomes extreme," Lance replies with a grin, and Shiro squeezes his hand as Lance feels his breath over his collarbone, "you don't have to mother us all, Captain."

"Oi," Shiro says with a laugh, and there's no venom in his chastisement to Lance's relief, "I'm only captain of the Atlas. Not here, not now."  
He coughs, squeezing Lance's hand again. "Not with you."

There's something akin to ice that's suddenly settled in Lance's gut, and he doesn't know why. Maybe it's because he feels guilty keeping Shiro here, when he should be with the rest of the team, with Keith, or maybe it's because he doesn't actually know why Shiro has stayed this long. It's confusing him, slightly, seeing as Shiro didn't really talk to him much; the only true conversations they ever had were with the clone, and that was a train of thought that always led Lance to dark places he didn't like.

So bite him, he's curious.

"Hey, Shiro?" He starts, before he can stop himself as his mind attempts to slam the breaks on, "can I ask something?"

There's a hum of curiosity from Shiro, who pushes his head off Lance's chest. "Anything."

"Why are you here, with me, right now?"

To his surprise, Shiro doesn't reply immediately. Instead, he can feel the metallic hand on his right shoulder move, beginning to rub small circles into Lance's skin.

"Because I want to be," he admits, averting his eyes from Lance to look down at their joined hands, "because I want to make things right. You nearly died today, on several different occasions, and it made me realise some things."

"What kind of things?" Lance asks, and he's aware he's really pushing the boundaries of a casual inquiry.

Finally, Shiro looks up, and Lance is frozen as striking, haunted brown-grey meets with his blue. "I've been unfair to you," he replies, and Lance feels himself holding a breath, "I've been standing in the way of my emotions for years, and I guess seeing the person you love carried off on a stretcher minutes away from death really does a number on your self-restraint."

Lance wants to speak, but his throat went dry somewhere between his question and Shiro's reply.

"You were the only one unconscious at the scene," Shiro continues, and Lance feels a thumb rub against his, "everyone else managed to get out of their lions, but you had to be removed by an emergency team. Your helmet came off and debris struck your face, first response thought you had bled out until someone found a pulse, and I- Lance?"

Somewhere during this speech, Lance starts crying. He didn’t know why, or how, but suddenly all he can see is Shiro, who now has both hands on his face.

“Oh, fuck, sorry,” he stutters, reaching up with trembling hands to wipe uselessly at his eyes, but Shiro just shakes his head and shushes him quietly.

“It’s okay,” Shiro says slowly, with a tenderness Lance doesn’t think he’s ever heard, “take your time, you’re probably in shock.”

The next thing Lance knows, Shiro is gently guiding Lance’s face down into his chest, running hands through his free hair smoothly. Air seems to be getting caught in his throat, sobs ripping and tearing at already wounded muscle until they fade into hiccups against Shiro’s neck, wet and loaded as tears mingle with the grease on his face and the gentle musk of cologne from Shiro’s neck.

“Sorry,” he forces out, only to feel the gentle of shake of Shiro’s head.

“It’s fine, don’t apologise,” Shiro soothes, and that’s when Lance feels a soft pair of lips against the crown of his head.

There’s a few more moments of silence whilst Lance slows his breathing, chest heaving in time with the slow movements of Shiro’s hand down his back. It feels like everything from the last few months has hit him all of a sudden, from being lost in space to the Galra invasion, to nearly dying several times at the hands of Sendak and whoever was piloting that unknown mecha. His hands tremble against Shiro’s waist, fingers weakly gripping his garrison uniform, and he’s aware he’s probably left tear patches in the grey material.

“Hey Shiro?” He asks quietly once his hiccups even out, and looks up to see Shiro looking down at him, “did you really mean that?”

Shiro quirks his head, almost puppy-like. “Mean what?”

“That thing you said about the person you love being carried on a stretcher. That person, that’s be me right?”

He feels Shiro still against him, and the hand around his waist tightens.

“I- I didn’t exactly mean to tell you about this,” Shiro admits, and Lance can almost see the truthfulness in his face, “and now probably wouldn’t be the best time to start a relationship - you’re with your family, and I’m still grieving myself.” He cuts himself off with a harsh laugh, and the memory of Adam lingers in the room like an old ghost.

“But you love me.”

Shiro grimaces, before nodding slowly. “I have done since the invasion of the Castle back on Arus.”

But that was-

“Two years ago, I know.”

“That’s a long time to bottle emotions up, Shiro,” Lance jokes with a sniffle, and feels Shiro grumble out a laugh, “if it helps-“

“I understand if you don’t return them,” Shiro says slowly, only for Lance to quickly shake his head.

“Hey, stop putting words in my mouth,” Lance replies, sniffing before wiping at his face angrily, “whoever suggested I didn’t like you back is like, stupider than me, and according to the universe that’s saying something-“

“You’re not stupid,” Shiro quickly assures him, taking Lance’s face between his hands as Lance slowly pushes away, “and whoever said that obviously has no idea how good you are with tactics, or your quick reactions, or the fact you’re the only paladin with any emotional understanding.”

“Shiro,” Lance says with an embarrassed laugh, feeling his face heat up, “you don’t have to say this stuff to make me feel better, y’know.”

Shiro frowns, knocking their foreheads together gently as to not disturb the bandages. “I’m not lying,” he states, serious and true, “I mean all of it, every word.”

“So you love me? And I love you?” Lance starts, and grins as a matching smile spreads across Shiro’s face, “so do you maybe want to go on a date, once I’m better?”

“I’ll need some time, just to mourn,” Shiro explains, and Lance’s non-IV’d hand wraps around his waist, “but yes, I’d love to date you.”

It’s at that point where Shiro beams, grin bright and youthful, and before Lance can stop himself he’s captured the other man’s lips. It’s over as soon as it starts, just a brief press of lips on lips, but it’s enough.

“So, I’m gonna’ be dating the Captain, huh?” Lance teases, grunting as pain spikes through his head once again, “Veronica won’t let me hear the last of this.”

Shiro smiles, properly this time, leaning Lance back against the pillows and cradling his head with the floating hand. “You have Atlas at your disposal,” he says with a gentle laugh, “use that power wisely.”

“Oh, Captain of Atlas, the bearer of my heart,” Lance jokes, swaying like women used to do back in his mother’s old English period dramas, “how strong are those shoulders of yours?”

“Lance, stop,” Shiro laughs, before pushing himself out of the bed, “I think I need to go, I have a briefing with Sam at six, but I’ll catch you afterwards?”

Lance laughs gently, motioning to his IV line and the hospital bed. “You know where to find me, Captain.”

With that, Shiro leaves, letting the door slide shut with a pneumatic hiss.

For once, Lance doesn’t feel quite so alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this was okay for y’all and didn’t feel too awkward or rushed :0
> 
> EDIT 15/8/18: SKY DREW SOME ART FOR THIS AND SHDBAJDN it’s absolutely bleedin’ fantastic y’all, pls go and show them some love - Thank you so much!!!!! It means so much, thank you ;-; (http://skylocked.tumblr.com/post/177019424720/pebbles-fic-healed-my-shance-soul-so-i-had-to)
> 
> EDIT 28/11/18: HARDLYNOTNEVER ALSO MADE SOME!!!!!! It’s gorgeous and I’m forever in your debt - thank you sm ;A; please go give them some love everyone! (http://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/180573070660)


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